


underwater

by oddlyqueer



Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Pining Grantaire, SKAM - Freeform, Trans Enjolras, Trans Male Character, enjolras is david bc trans, skam/druck au, this is just me crying over the clip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-29 18:59:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18784222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddlyqueer/pseuds/oddlyqueer
Summary: Grantaire’s been wandering the street for hours, trying to find him, when all of a sudden he gets a voice message.‘Aaron— voice message 0:30’, his phone says, like this isn’t the biggest deal of a lifetime. He immediately picks up and listens.





	underwater

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vivelapluto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivelapluto/gifts).



> i am so sorry that this isn't the new chapter of nouvelle vie,,, i promise its coming!!! u will have to wait another week sadly bc i have conference. and the Muse (aka druck) decided to come possess my body (aka i watched the new clip and maybe cried) so have this oneshot instead. if any of u don't watch druck... Do It or i will personally eat your skull
> 
> jkjk love you!!! (tw for referenced transphobia)

Grantaire’s been wandering the street for hours, trying to find him, when all of a sudden he gets a voice message. 

‘Aaron— voice message 0:30’, his phone says, like this isn’t the biggest deal of a lifetime. He immediately picks up and listens.

“Dear Rene,” he says, and his heart could break just at hearing his voice again. 

“I’m underwater, without oxygen, and thinking of you.”

He pulls on the edge of his hoodie, picking at a paint stain on the hem.

“I wanna tell you so much, but I can’t stay here. Have to go.”

He jumps back on his bike, his mind racing.  _ Underwater. Underwater. _ For a moment, it jumps to the bridge, to a horrible image, but he pushes it out of his mind for a more likely conclusion. At least, he hoped it’s a more likely conclusion.

“It’s not bad to be alone. We’re all alone.” He keeps listening, not noticing the cars rushing past as he speeds towards the only place he can possibly be. 

“If fortune had been on our side, I’d have taken you with me. Don’t forget that.”

He parks his bike, practically throwing it aside, not caring what happens to it.  _ Enjolras. Enjolras. Enjolras. _ Jumping the fence, that’s all he can think.  _ Enjolras _ , his mind screams as he slides through the basement hatch and down into the dark hallway.  _ Enjolras _ , he feels the words with every fiber of his being as he searches, desperate, the light from his phone the only illumination he has.

Looking through the doorway. “Aaron?” No reply. His thoughts come in short, painful bursts— he’s somewhere here. He has to be. There’s no way— he’s safe. He has to be safe.

He climbs the stairs, his pace quickening as he reaches the entrance to the empty pool, and—

_ Oh, thank God. _

There he is. Sitting on some tiny sleeping bag, with nothing but a backpack and his notebook, where he was writing something furiously. Probably some speech— something for history class? He remembers the school day and bites his lip.  _ He’s probably not going to history class anytime soon. _

“Are you kidding me?” He can’t help himself. This is where he’s been, all this time, for days? Making him  _ worry _ about his safety?

He climbs down the pool ladder as Enjolras pushes himself up off the floor, from the sleeping bag where he sat. He's still wearing the same clothes he had during… that day. 

“Are you fucking serious?” he demands, still halfway to angry. Enjolras just stands there, with his back to the wall, defiant as ever. It doesn’t feel right to see him like this, in such a vulnerable state, but he has to do something. Anything. 

“What’s up?” Softer this time,  _ don’t scare him, he needs time _ . 

His breath comes quickly, scared. He’s nervous. When he finally does speak, his voice is shaky, and he looks like he’s about to cry. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” he says, and Grantaire’s heart breaks for the hundredth time since he got the goddamn message from Enjolras. “At my old school— they called me awful names because— because I had to use the accessible toilet—” His voice breaks, and he stops, taking a deep breath. “I tried not to take it personally,” he says, looking down at his feet. “But I…”

Grantaire just stares at the floor. He can’t understand what Enjolras is going through, but he sure as hell is going to be there for it. Every goddamn second, minute by minute until he can finally do something to help.

“And— the teachers, even though they knew, they called me by my fucking birthname—” He has to stop again. Grantaire tries not to pity him. It won’t help. It won’t make anything better. Still, with him standing here, practically shaking with fear, he can’t help it.

“They all… they treated me like  _ scum  _ and it was only getting worse and I couldn’t sleep and I just wanted to run away,” he sobs, and all he wants to do is just hold him and tell him it’ll all be fine, that he’s here and that everything will be okay. “I… I wanted a fresh start.”

Grantaire has to fight the urge to step forward— it’s barely a foot of space between them— and pull him into a hug.

“And now…” He takes another short breath. “I’m in the exact same situation again.”

“No,” he says, his voice soft. 

“You saw! You saw how they looked at their phones,” he cries, desperate. “The  _ disgust _ . It’ll just be the same.”

“No, it won’t be the same,” he says. 

“Of course it will.” He looks so afraid, and he can tell how ashamed Enjolras is that he’s seeing this. “They— they’ll laugh at me, or they’ll ask how I pee or—” 

“Yes, but now  _ I’m _ here!” he practically shouts. Enjolras is stunned into silence. His voice echoes through the whole room, only making the quiet more noticeable.

“Then let’s run away. Together. Somewhere else—”

“No!”

“What am I supposed to do here?” He steps back as Grantaire approaches, looking more afraid than ever. 

“You should—” 

Enjolras looking him in the eyes, tears threatening to spill over, makes him realize that he has no idea what he should do. He doesn’t know the first thing about this— a Google search four days after he came out to him is his only basis to go on.

“What?” There’s the spark, the Enjolras he knows. The challenge to one-up him.

“You— you’re so cool, and you don’t even notice it,” he says weakly. “Do you have any idea how supportive everyone was the past few days?”

No reply. He looks scared, almost, still.

“They were all at my place and trying to figure out what to do to make you feel better after. To help you.” 

Enjolras still looks like he’s about to cry.

“Okay?”

No reply. He’s breathing harder now, afraid. 

“And you’re not some fucked up monster that has to hide from society or anything like that,” he continues. He takes a step forward, closing the distance between them to just a few small inches. “That’s not what you are.” 

Enjolras takes a small step away. He bites his lip, still on the verge of tears, but he doesn’t move far away. Grantaire hopes he can continue without hurting him somehow. He just wants him to be okay.

“I’m here, and that means you have all the time in the world.”

A long pause. He doesn’t know what to say. No, he knows, he just can’t bring himself to do it. It might comfort him more, but it also might hurt him. Or is that just an excuse for him not to say it at all?

“Because…” He hesitates. “Because I love you.” Finishing a sentence proves too hard for him, and he turns away, hiding his face. He turns to walk away.

“What?”

Finally, for the first time since… well, since what happened, he smiles. “I’m not going to say it again,” he says quietly, hiding his laugh.

“What did you say?” Enjolras asks again, smiling.  _ Dammit. _ He sighs, turning his face away again. Looking directly at Enjolras’s smile is like looking directly at the fucking sun.

“Because I love you."

For a moment, he looks scared. Maybe it’s just the shock. But after a few seconds of pure quiet, where his nerves are on overdrive, Enjolras pulls him into a kiss.

If looking at his smile is like looking at the sun, kissing him is like being engulfed in it. It’s a terrible metaphor, he thinks, like something from a bad romance novel, but he can’t help it. His brain thinks exclusively in bad metaphors when he’s around him.

As they finally pull apart, the memory of the kiss still soft and warm in his mind, Enjolras whispers, “I love you too.”

And he pulls him in again.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you all so much for reading!! a big special thanks to @vivelapluto for being the lucas to my eliott and the beanie to my david :P
> 
> as always, comments and kudos are much appreciated! and i promise more nouvelle vie is coming adsfsdfsdff


End file.
